


Birthday Treat

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: Californication (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Post Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-17
Updated: 2008-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm eighteen today," fate's personal vendetta against him lets him know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Treat

"I'm eighteen today," fate's personal vendetta against him lets him know, leaning in his doorway in a flimsy green dress with a bottle of champagne in her hand.

"Great. Throw a party, buy a cake, blow out some candles. Happy birthday!" He wants to close the door in her face, but she's quicker and pushes past him before he can stop her.

"Tempting. But I'd rather blow you," she calls over her shoulder, walking straight into his bedroom. He was afraid she'd say that.

Letting the front door fall shut with a bang, he follows her. "Listen, this isn't going to happen. It doesn't matter whether you're sixteen or eighteen or twenty-five, that's not what this is about. I don't even _like_ you. You're self-destructive and manipulative and not nearly as irresistible as you think you are."

She slides the straps of her dress over her shoulders. The garment falls to the floor, pooling at her feet. Predictably, she's not wearing anything underneath, and he has to admit – it's a sight to behold. "Whoa." He blinks and stares and for once, he's at a loss of words. Something must be wrong with the heating because it's suddenly way too hot in the room.

Her smirk is positively evil. "You were saying?"

"Yeah, well. That last thing I said? Forget it." Because no matter how hard (and really, he needs to stop using words like 'hard') he tries, there's no denying that, fuck, she's exactly as irresistible as she thinks she is. 

"Jesus!" He drags his hand over his face and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, blocking the sight of her naked, delicious, altogether too fuckable body. Reasonable. He needs to be reasonable. He can do this. "Seriously. This is a bad idea."

"Why? I want you, you want me, what's wrong with that? We're all adults here." She smiles sweetly before sitting down on the bed and crossing her legs. He feels his throat go dry.

"Your father—"

"Just think about how _mad_ it would make Bill. That should be, like, an added bonus for you. The perfect way to get back at him for marrying Karen." The sad thing is that she's right, and he knows it. He wants to protest and say that he's not that kind of a jerk, but he is. 

"Come on, I promise I'll be a good girl. I won't even give you a black eye." 

It's not exactly what he'd call an offer he can't resist, but for some reason, he finds himself stepping closer to her like he's wearing an invisible leash and she's tugging. And then she fists the front of his shirt and she's _really_ tugging. He loses balance and falls, sprawling on top of her. It feels like all the air is leaving his lungs when she wraps her legs tightly around him. A smile of victory stretches her lips and he hates her, just a little.

"Alright. Just this one time," he tells her before she pushes upwards to claim his lips. But even as he says it, he knows it's a lie.


End file.
